To answer your question of whether I "went back," tits just informed me I was kicked out for falling off my barstool and passing out on the floor...
I twisted my ankle last night doing a super high five with 3 inch heels on.
While I was fucking her, they came in and served us both weed from a hookah. best. friends. ever.
Heyyyy darlin are you busy?
Why hello drunk Jake. It's sober Sarah, I'll tell drunk Sarah you booty called. She'll probably be around tomorrow night.
sleazy september. first one with mono loses.
No more fucking baseball tools. Walk-of-shamed home in only a pinstriped jersey and a Red Sox SnapBack.
When I blacked in, I was crying to my father at the swim-up bar that "I was going to win an Oscar." how do you THINK Mexico was?
Exact words that were just spoken as she was on her 6th, yes 6th piece of bread: "I'm only eating the soft and chewy inside of the bread-I am taking the crust home to feed my turtles"
He called it restless penis syndrome. I call it cheating.
No one ever gets any after sleeping with her. She is like the broken mirror of hookups, enjoy 7 years of blue ball. Don't say I didn't warn you
Finals drinking + forgeting you had to take your ambien because you work at 6am mid paper= drunk logic which then entails going on a "detox" run. Puking your guts put in the field house bushes while some random guy says to you "its okay. We're marching on."
Nothing says Panama City like condoms washing up on the shore.
Flatmate got laid for the first time in 3 years. I'm baking a cake.
Ah, but I don't wear underwear. Every day is Commando Wednesday.
It's not a hangover, it's "slept on a couch with another person and said person moves a lot and is loud"
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